


On Pumice and the Nature of Permission

by InksandPens



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Bathing/Washing, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is Whipped (Good Omens), It is now, Kinda, Nervous Crowley (Good Omens), Non-sexual dubcon, Past Violence, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), but don't worry they talk about it, is that a tag, maybe more than he should be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:15:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24396376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InksandPens/pseuds/InksandPens
Summary: Crowey's in shed, and it's not going great, but he can manage. No need to help, please and thank you.Or: Crowley is expecting to get flayed alive, and gets a spa day instead.Based on a tumblr prompt that I've lost the source for.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley & Demons (Good Omens)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 178





	On Pumice and the Nature of Permission

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not a herpetologist.

“Pardon me, I believe I misheard you. It almost sounded like you said you were in shed.”

“S’what I said. Yeah.”

“…even shaped like _that_?”

“Yeah.”

“Does it help?”

“Eh, not really, but switching doesn’t make it any easier, either.”

“Is there any way I can assist you? …Crowley? I know I’m not the foremost authority on snakes but you really do sound uncomfortable and I’m sure I could--“

“Tha’sssss not—no! Rather deal with it on my own, thanks. Done it before, not a problem. Prefer it, really.”

“…if you’re sure.”

“It’ll be fine, angel. ‘S tedious ‘n messy. You wouldn’t like it. Just gimme a week and then we can go on like we have been.”

* * *

Evidently Aziraphale couldn’t leave well enough alone, because hearing his own name called in the angel’s voice was the only thing that kept the now lidless cap-eyed demon from seizing up in terror at the sound of his door unlocking itself.

* * *

“How do I look?”

“Rather like a human-shaped cape gooseberry, honestly. Is it…still in progress?”

“SSsss, yeah, sorry. It, hasn’t been a great one. ‘m gonna be a bit longer than I said before.”

“Well, in that case.”

“…angel? Can’t ssssee with m’eyes like this, what’re you doing?”

“I’ve done a bit of reading.”

“I imagine ‘a bit of reading’ has been the highlight during my absence.”

“Oh it has, very much so.”

“ _Pssh_.”

“I’ve figured out a way to help you through this, if you want it.”

* * *

No, no, no. He didn’t want _help_ with this. He didn’t want _Aziraphale_ to _help_ with this.

He wasn’t sure he could look at the angel the same way again, if Aziraphale had it in him to _help_ with this.

But Crowley was out of practice with denying his angel anything he wanted. And Aziraphale wanted to help with this. Crowley suppressed a shiver.

* * *

“Okay. Okay. Do it.”

“Very well! Now, I know you can’t see well at the moment, dear, but do you think we could move you out of the bed? I’ve prepared your washroom.”

* * *

The eager but gentle cadence of the angel’s voice soothed Crowley, despite the topic. With Aziraphale’s help, he heaved himself up, shaking his head a little in an attempt to dispel his lingering fright.

It was rather silly, he supposed as soft hands helped him balance, to fear anything Aziraphale had taken it upon himself to lend a hand in. And if the angel really had _studied_ in preparation for this task, then he really was in good hands, wasn’t he?

Bastard would probably soothe him every inch of the way. Verbally, physically, and _grace_ fully.

Crowley sighed. This wouldn’t be torture, just a… a rather painful chore. Yeah. It’d sting and burn in the moment, going through, but it wouldn’t linger. Aziraphale wouldn’t let it.

Still, he couldn’t shake the memory of pain, throat strained practically shut with the effort of not screaming, denied even the release of screwing his eyes shut and letting tears fall. Snakes don’t have eyelids, and they can’t shed tears.

* * *

“Angel?”

“Mm?”

“I…I trust you, alright?”

“…Oh, my dear, thank you.”

* * *

Crowley’s confusion began when, at the angel’s prompting, he found himself stepping into warm water. He gave himself until he was submerged up to his sternum to figure out what this was for.

He didn’t figure out what it was for. Aziraphale told him. Apparently, a good, long soak was part of _help_.

Crowley didn’t see how, but it did feel nice, and he was trusting Aziraphale to know what he was about right now.

He tilted his head back, resting it against the edge. There was nothing else in the water with him, no bubbles, no salts, nothing scented.

* * *

“Once you’ve relaxed in there long enough, dear, my plan was to use this. Here, hold out your hands.”

* * *

Crowley expected to be cautiously feeling around the edge of something metal, testing its sharpness and durability. Giving the final word, in a way, because Aziraphale was thoughtful, really, letting him know exactly what he was getting into, giving him some level of control over this grisly business.

Whatever Aziraphale had handed him, it wasn’t that. It was a great deal more blunt, to start. And rough.

* * *

“What on earth is this?”

“It’s funny you should phrase it like that. It’s pumice.”

“It’s what?”

“A pumice stone.”

“No, I heard you. I just don’t get how a floating rock plays into this. Unless bath toys are supposed to _help_ somehow.”

“It’s not like a child’s rubber duck, Crowley. It’s more of a tool. Adult humans use it when they—"

“Oh, so it’s _that_ kind of toy. I’m flattered, angel, but in this state--“

“Oh hush, honestly! They use it on their skin, to rub the old stuff off!”

“…oh?”

“Yes. It’s purely for cleansing purposes.”

“…huh.”

“I thought we could employ it in a similar fashion. If you, well, that is to say, I’d be happy to do it for you, if you like, but if you would rather do it yourself? You know your skin best, I’d imagine.”

“…lemme try it for a bit first, and then…then we’ll see.”

* * *

Crowley spent a good silent minute longer exploring the stone with his palms and fingertips before gripping it firmly and carefully but precisely setting it on the right side of his face, between his cheek and his ear.

He almost whooped when he felt the top layer of skin split, but he was too relaxed.

* * *

“What’ll the humans come up with next, huh? I mean, rocks? For skin?”

“I’ve learned they can also be used to diffuse essential oils into the air. I imagine they would make for a wonderful spa setup.”

“This one doesn’t smell like anything.”

“I’d worried about overwhelming you. I wasn’t sure how many of your snake aspects would be cropping up during this process and introducing an unfamiliar scent seemed like the wrong approach.”

“No worries, I try to keep the tongue suppressed. And the other stuff. I mean, can you imagine a tongue sheath in a human mouth?”

“I’d rather not, thanks.”

“Or the temperature pits. What’d that look like? A mustache made of extra nostrils? Ah, fuck.”

“Crowley? What, what is it? Is it not working?”

“It’s fine, it’s working fine. It’s just…didn’t get the caps peeled off with the rest, ‘n I can’t really use this on my eyes.”

“Ah, I see.”

“I don’t _want_ to use this on my eyes.”

“And I wouldn’t expect you to. No matter, there’s a solution to this. Just give me a moment to find a cloth.”

* * *

Crowley might have wept at the sheer tenderness of it all (because surely he was projecting, look how methodical the angel had been about the whole thing), as Aziraphale braced his jaw in one hand and purposefully brushed a dampened towel over an eye with the other, if snakes were capable of shedding tears as humans understood them.

With a small, slightly wet tearing sound that Crowley felt more than heard, his vision on one side suddenly cleared.

“Hello, dear.” Aziraphale smiled.

Crowley smiled back. “G’day.”

* * *

Nice as the bath had been, Crowley didn’t want to shed any part of himself that was still submerged, so time next found him spread haphazardly over several towels the angel had laid out on the washroom floor, the rubbish bin within arm’s reach.

“You sure you want to stick around for this part, angel? It’s really not glamorous or anything.”

“Crowley, if you want to nudge me out the door you can just say so.”

“I’m not--! I don’t want you to _leave_. I just…” Crowley huffed. It came out more like a hiss. “…don’t fancy anyone watching me for this bit.”

The angel’s suppressed grin evolved into a more genuine smile. Bastard. “Well, in that case.” He stood carefully. “Would you like me to prepare anything for once you’re finished? Perhaps some tea? A change of bed linens? Nightclothes?”

Crowley frowned in thought, absently scraping the pumice along his shoulder. “Miracle up your sofa from the shop an’ I’ll meet you on it when I’m done in here. Other than that, do whatever you want.”

He sighed as the angel closed the door behind him. Alright, now time for the awkward part. Well, most parts of this were awkward, yes, but the rest didn’t involve as much squirming.

He’d take awkward squirming over _help_ any day, though.

Crowley shook his head. He needed to put that out of his mind already. Aziraphale had shown him a new idea of help, one that Crowley found himself much more amenable to.

* * *

He found Aziraphale in the tv room, throne and desk pushed to the far wall to make room for one of the bookshop’s sofas, as well as a warm little table lamp on a side table. He tossed Crowley a familiar throw blanket as the demon approached, falling into the cushions in a sort of controlled dive. Aziraphale accepted him with a contented hum, and Crowley curled against him, silent for a moment.

“This isn’t really a frequent thing,” he ventured after a moment or two, “but, next time it happens, d’you think…we could do this again?”

“Oh, did you really enjoy it? I mean, well, I intended it as a way to ease the process, but if you want to ‘make a day’ of it, as they say, I…Crowley, I would be delighted.”

Crowley smiled languidly. “Do they say that?”

Aziraphale huffed in mock impatience.

“I really did like it, though,” Crowley clarified. “In both senses.”

Aziraphale hummed in acknowledgement.

“So much better than just ripping it off.”

Aziraphale didn’t seem to have a response for that.

They sat in silence for a few more minutes.

“Crowley?”

“Mm?”

“Have you, in the past, just…tried to tear the whole thing off at once?”

Crowley winced. He shouldn’t have said anything. “Wasn’ me, specifically. Hell sent me an urgent assignment in the middle of a shed one time, apparently it couldn’ wait even a few days. So when I didn’t get my arse moving they sent some associates up to, uh, _help_.”

Aziraphale took a belated gasp.

“One of ‘em brought some sort of hunting knife, but the res’ just used claws. Few minutes in and I stopped trying to figure out how many layers were actually coming away.”

Crowley could feel the angel’s eyes trying to see his bare torso through the blanket, as if searching for evidence of injuries long erased. “Dear, when I first made my suggestion, were you hesitant because-“

“Nonono,” Crowley interrupted, shifting to look the angel in the eyes. “I trusted you, angel.”

“Trusted me to what? Flay you alive in the least painful way possible?”

It sounded ridiculous when he put it like that. “Nnh, basically, I guess.”

“I hope you realize I would never do that to you.”

Crowley nodded, eyes cast downward. He saw Aziraphale purse his lips, and the demon winced.

“And even if you had thought so,” the angel continued, mercifully choosing to give Crowley the benefit of the doubt, “why didn’t you say anything?”

“Didn’t wanna disappoint you. You were so eager, and you sounded confident.”

Crowley felt a hand around the nape of his neck, and lips against his forehead.

“Crowley, as much as I was hoping you’d say yes, it was only a suggestion. I apologize if I made it seem like a demand of any sort.”

Crowley laid his head against the angel’s chest. “Was nothin’ you said, specifically. Just kinda read it into the situation, I guess.”

Aziraphale hummed in acknowledgement, hand coming up to rub the demon’s back.

“S’okay, Aziraphale,” Crowley mumbled. “M’ not upset or anything. And I do appreciate the…the help.”

**Author's Note:**

> Tried a little experiment with the narration, lemme know if you catch the correlation between it and the story progression.


End file.
